The Mall of Arda
by Andy Longwood
Summary: Welcome to Imladris, Middle-earth’s premier shopping mall. Please come in, look around, and try to restrain yourself from maiming me for writing such tripe. Based on a fangirls delusions, told from Legolas’ point of view.
1. An Unfamiliar Imladris

Disclaimer: Greetings, kind reader, and please do put away your pointy object. Do sit down and let me explain myself before you decapitate me in the messiest way possible. I'm quite sure I have a basic idea of what you're thinking. "Rivendell, a shopping mall? What is this chick on?" Let me assure you I am on nothing other than a great deal of ginger tea and that I did not come up with the idea that Rivendell could be a mall on my own. I had help from a Mary-Sue writing Legolas-lusting fangirl for that (no offense to Suvian Legolusters meant). Despite her hormonal fangirl tendencies, she is a rather dear friend of mine and therefore I shall not speak her name. This particular Sue-writing Legoluster seemed at one time to be suffering under the delusion that Rivendell is something of a shopping mall, and that one can throw parties and buy swimsuits there. I, naturally, found the idea utterly laughable and briefly pushed it into the back of my mind until one fateful day when I mentioned my friend and her delusions at the PPC message board. A regular there suggested that the idea would make an interesting fanfic, and I agreed. Ever since then, the idea has been festering and growing in a corner of my mind until it came out in this format. I hope you find this less blasphemous than a great deal of my other work, and I hope even more that you may find it amusing. At the very least, I had fun writing it.   
  
That said, nothing pertaining to Lord of the Rings belongs to me. Not even the idea of Rivendell the Shopping Mall belongs to me. The former belongs to Professor Tolkien, the latter a Suvian fangirl.  
  
Thank you for your time. Now onward to blasphemy!  
  
-Andy  
  
The Mall of Arda  
  
By Andtauriel Longwood Baggins  
  
  
Chapter 1: An Unfamiliar Imladris  
  
I am Legolas, son of Thranduil, High King of Mirkwood Forest, Sylvan elf, and Prince of the Woodland Realm.  
  
At that particular moment, I was also very confused.  
  
Although the building in front of which I stood bore a vague resemblance to Imladris, I was certain that the House of Elrond had not looked this way the last time I paid it a visit. I could not identify the smooth, stony substance which the columns of the Last Homely House were constructed, nor could I make sense of the curious runes that were painted above the large, glass doors that apparently formed the new way of entry into Lord Elrond's home. I peered cautiously through the glass, and was intrigued to see a long, wide hall decorated with various forms of plant life growing in small stone pots and many, many more doors and windows. Unless I had somehow gotten lost and ended up in someplace entirely different than where I intended to be, Rivendell had changed a lot.  
  
Through the glass, I caught sight of an elf exiting one of the many inner doors and walking down the hall into a new door. I heaved a short sigh and placed my hand on the cold metal handle of the glass door. Most likely I wouldn't learn anything new standing outside, at least, not any more quickly than I could have learned it by going in. I pushed open the door and entered.  
  
- 


	2. Come to the Blonde Side, Legolas!

A/N: Please ignore the collective Out of Character-ness of the Elves. I did that on purpose. Except in the case of Legolas, who is not intended to be OOC, so if he is, please let me know.  
  
I own nothing. As for my stand on what Legolas' real hair color is, I really have no idea. I don't see why he couldn't be blonde as his father and a bunch of his people are, but it is more likely he is a brunette, due to his heritage. Just do your best to enjoy the chapter, whatever your stand on the subject is.  
  
On another note, I seem to have been stricken with the Pernese Plague (I.E. the flu). Chapters may be a little slow in coming (or quicker, since I have more of a reason not to do schoolwork now). *cough*  
  
  
The Mall of Arda  
  
By Andtauriel Longwood Baggins  
  
  
Chapter 2: Come to the Blonde Side, Legolas!  
  
At first I thought that the strange building of glass and stone was deserted. Were I not an elf, my footsteps would have echoed in the vast hall. Even the soft sound of my shoes against the smooth squares spread evenly across the floor was audible in the silence. My sharp ears picked up the faint sounds of footsteps other than my own somewhere in the structure (WAS this Rivendell? It looked so strange!), so I knew I was not the only one there. I ran my hands along the smooth wall, marveling at the alien feel of the surface. I had never seen a place like this in my life, and as I am an elf, that is saying something.  
  
"Legolas?" a voice called behind me, and I looked over my shoulder. At the end of the long hall a blonde elf was peering out one of the many doors at me. I recognized him instantly, and smiled.  
  
"Lord Glorfindel!" I called, striding swiftly down the hall to meet him. " Elen sila lumenn omentilmo!"  
  
" Mae govannen," Glorfindel replied, smiling back at me. I am afraid I was so relieved to see a familiar face that I must have looked a bit overeager to see him. If I did, he did not appear to notice. I took heart from this and went on.  
  
"I was on my way to Imladris, but I must have gotten lost . . . What IS this place?" I said, looking around at the unfamiliar architecture. Glorfindel stared at me, looking perplexed.  
  
"But this IS Imladris!" he said, and I stared at him. "Surely you knew Elrond was redecorating?"  
  
"I would say this is a great more than redecoration . . ." I said, raising one smooth, dark brow. Glorfindel merely smiled.  
  
"You must not have heard." He said vaguely.  
  
"Heard what?" I asked.  
  
"Elrond has decided to go into the business of commercialism. Times are hard, Legolas, and a dollar does not go as far as it used to. But surely you know that."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Imladris is now Arda's first ever shopping mall!" Glorfindel beamed expectantly at me, but I only continued to stare.  
  
"What in Eru's Name are you talking about?" I asked, utterly bewildered. Half of the words Glorfindel had told me I had not recognized and the rest made no sense. "What in Middle-earth is a shopping mall, and why is Lord Elrond turning his beautiful home into one?"  
  
"But I just told you!" Glorfindel protested.  
  
I sighed. "Please, my friend, explain again."  
  
So Glorfindel explained in great deal what a "shopping mall" was. I must admit that by the end of his lecture I was still quite perplexed. I understood that a shopping mall was a place for large amounts of people to spend a great deal of money purchasing anything from clothing to food to replacement axe handles, but I can't say I found the idea of Rivendell full of a crowd of people particularly attractive. However, Imladris belonged to Elrond, not me, but I hoped he had not posed the idea of a "Mall" to my father. I do not think I would have liked one in Mirkwood.  
  
"I . . . see." I said finally, once Glorfindel had finished speaking (although to be perfectly honest, I didn't see at all). "Perhaps I should find Lord Elrond now."  
  
"Nonsense!" Glorfindel said, grinning cheerily at me. "You haven't seen my shop yet!"  
  
"Your . . . shop?" I asked in bewilderment.  
  
"Certainly. I couldn't let Elrond get himself into this wild venture without taking part, now could I?"  
  
I thought he most certainly could, but didn't say so. Glorfindel was eyeing me like a Dwarf eyes mithril, and such scrutiny made me quite uneasy.  
  
"No, really, I must be going . . ." I insisted, but Glorfindel grabbed my arm firmly and began steering me down the hall.  
  
"A few more minutes can not hurt, my dear Prince. You can be my first customer!" The Elf Lord said happily.  
  
"Your what?"  
  
"Well technically, the Mall of Arda does not open to the public for a month or so. But for you, I shall be quite happy to make an exception." Glorfindel stopped in front of a pair of elegantly cut glass doors, behind which was a small room full of bottles of various shapes and sizes and many pictures of elves with very lovely hair. A few small chairs were set around a table containing a few elvish books, and about three larger padded chairs were fixed to the ground in the smooth stone-like floor at the back. The whole place was brightly lit, and ornately carved letters above the doors spelled out what I presumed was the name of the shop (again, I could not read the unfamiliar runes).  
  
"Welcome," Glorfindel said, releasing my arm and gesturing happily at the room. "To Glorfindel's Hair and Beauty Salon!" He beamed at me brilliantly, and I merely stared.  
  
"It's . . . um . . . nice," I said after a few seconds. What else could I say? The valiant Elf Lord seemed to have taken leave of his sanity. And his usual personality.  
  
"Isn't it, though?" Glorfindel said fondly, looking at the shop. He then turned to me and began running his hands through my dark hair. My eyes widened and I jumped to evade his hands. I did not welcome such physical proximity.  
  
"Oh, don't be so jumpy, Legolas!" Glorfindel laughed. "You MUST let me do your hair."  
  
I stared some more. "Do what with it?"  
  
"You know! Wash it, trim it, style it! It's about time you had a change."  
  
"I like my hair the way it is, thank you. And I REALLY must find Lord Elrond . . ."  
  
"He won't notice if you're a few minutes late. Please, Legolas? Do me the honor of being my first customer, won't you? It's on the house!" Glorfindel looked at me beseechingly. I was speechless. Was Glorfindel of Rivendell actually *pouting* at me? This was rapidly turning out to be the strangest day of my life. And why would I want to have my hair done on a house?  
  
"Oh . . .fine." I said, rolling my eyes and sighing. "Please, don't do anything drastic to it, though." I ran my hands protectively over my smooth, dark hair.  
  
"Of course not." Glorfindel said, grabbing my arm again. Before I had a chance to react, he had dragged me over to one of the padded chairs, wrapped white cloak around my neck and across my front, and pushed me into a chair. He grabbed a lever on the side of the chair, and the back suddenly went down, and I with it. I stared in surprise up at Glorfindel, who grabbed a pitcher of water from the side of what seemed to be a basin under my head, and poured it over my hair. He grabbed a bottle and poured a thick substance from it into his hand, which he then began to work across my damp scalp.  
  
"So! What brings you to Imladris, Legolas?" he said as he worked his fingers through my hair. It felt rather nice, actually, having someone wash my hair for me. Perhaps this "Salon" was a better idea than I had thought it would be.  
  
"Lord Elrond sent a summons to Mirkwood. It sounded urgent, and I -"  
  
"That's nice. So tell me, how is your father?"  
  
I humored Glorfindel with small talk of Mirkwood as he washed, dried, and trimmed my hair. I assumed he was done after he placed his delicate scissors back on the small table, but he pulled me back down as I tried to rise.  
  
"Oh no you don't," he chuckled. "I've got something else in mind for you."  
  
With some misgivings, I settled back and let Glorfindel continue working.  
---  
  
"Done!"  
  
The Elf Lord whipped off my white cloak and spun my chair around to face a mirror.  
  
"What did you DO to it?!" I cried, after I had finished staring in shock.  
  
"Dyed it!" Glorfindel said brightly. "Do you like it?"  
  
I sputtered wordlessly for a rather long time. My hair, my lovely dark hair, was blonde. Platinum blonde. I was speechless. Oh, my father was blonde, and some of our people were blonde as well, but I had always had very dark hair, like most of the Elves of Mirkwood did. Certainly there was nothing wrong with blonde hair. I had just never imagined myself with it. It was rather shocking to see my reflection staring back at me as a blonde.  
  
"Oh, I just KNEW you'd like it!" Glorfindel was beaming. "I'd do your eyebrows as well, but that would just wash them out completely, what with your skin tone."  
  
I stared. I had been doing that a lot that day.  
  
"Blonde is so in this year, you know." Glorfindel chattered on, stopping up various bottles and replacing them on the shelves.  
  
"In what?" I asked. Merciful Eru, my hair was BLONDE!  
  
"In!" Glorfindel seemed to think this explained everything. "You'll have to beat the ladies off with a stick."  
  
"I don't really want to beat any ladies at all."  
  
Glorfindel chuckled. "I can't believe you didn't dye it sooner. Blonde is SO your color."  
  
I decided that was a compliment. "Do you think so?"  
  
"Oh, definitely."  
  
I stared at my reflection and tilted my head to the side. I had to admit, now that the shock was over, I DID look quite good with blonde hair . . .  
  
"Well . . . thank you, I suppose . . ." I said, standing up and brushing stray hair clippings off my tunic. "I really must find Lord Elrond now. Have you seen him?"  
  
"Not today." Glorfindel pressed a bottle into my hand. "Now if you MUST wash it, use this. The color should stay for at least three years, but after that you'll need a touch up."  
  
"Three years?" I exclaimed. "Won't my hair have grown out by then in my natural color?"  
  
"Not if you touch up the roots with that." Glorfindel pointed to the bottle.  
  
"How is that possible?"  
  
"Now now, Legolas," Glorfindel said, preening. "I can't go revealing my secrets to just everyone, now can I? My competition would just DIE to get their hands on that information!"  
  
I had no idea what competition would want Glorfindel's hair care secrets, but I did not say so. I was late enough to see Lord Elrond as it was. I gave Glorfindel a polite farewell and started to leave the shop. Just in front of the elegant doors, I stopped and looked over my shoulder, smiling mischeviously.  
  
"You've been dying Father's hair for years, haven't you?" I said, with the air of one who has just reached an epiphany. Glorfindel grinned.  
  
"Maybe," he said impishly.  
  
"Well it's very realistic." I complimented him, and exited the store, laughing.  
  
---  
  
Second A/N: forgive me if that was a little unbelievable. I know next to nothing about the care of dyed hair. But I'm sure that if Elves got it into their heads to start changing each others hair color, they'd be very good at keeping it looking nice. 


	3. Remember, Legolas, You're Not a Winter A...

A/N: Liv Tyler has my due respect as is deserved of a fine actress. Book Arwen has my full respect, as is deserved of a good character from the Lord of the Rings. Movie Arwen doesn't. And if she by some chance steals Éowyn's part in the Return of the King, I will send letter bombs to Peter Jackson until I blow up New Zealand. Well, perhaps not ALL of it. I have to visit it first. But I WILL be very annoyed.  
  
That said, I own absolutely nothing having to do with the Lord of the Rings. For the sake of the story, I'm assuming Legolas would have met Elrond's kids already.  
  
Chapter Three: Remember, Legolas, You're Not a Winter Anymore.  
  
I must admit that I could not resist staring at my reflection in the store windows as I strolled away from Glorfindel's shop. My, but I looked good with blonde hair. What was it Glorfindel had said about beating ladies off? The idea of beating women repulsed me, but on my journey to Rivendell I had noticed quite a few human ladies staring at me. Some of the younger ones had even been following me around during the duration of my stay. I hadn't paid them much attention then, and to tell the truth, such attention made me a little uncomfortable. I only hoped that age would knock some sense into their heads . . . and that my new hair color would not add to the problem.  
  
I was still pondering this when someone stepped in front of me, causing me to jump back in a decidedly Un-Elvish manner. Was I that off my guard?  
  
"Excuse me, but the Mall is not yet . . . Legolas? Is that you?"  
  
"Arwen?" I inclined my head politely to the puzzled elf woman before me. For who else could this stunning creature be but the Evenstar? "Three thousand years have done nothing to lessen your loveliness, my lady." She was as beautiful to behold as ever, I thought, taking in her lovely face, dark hair, sapphire blue eyes . . . wait a moment, weren't Elrond's only daughter's eyes gray?  
  
The lady preened slightly. "I thank you, Prince of Mirkwood, but the Mall is not yet open to the public. What are you doing here? Did Daddy send for you?"  
  
I blinked. 'Daddy'?  
  
"And WHAT happened to your hair?" she finished.  
  
I chuckled.   
  
"This is Glorfindel's handiwork, my lady. I would say it is somewhat becoming, wouldn't you?" I said, grinning impishly to let the lady know I was merely jesting. Arwen's blue eyes (I was still quite certain that they were gray last time I saw her) flicked from my hair down to my clothes. She seemed to be taking an unusual interest in my appearance.  
  
"Quite," she said slowly, her full lips forming a strangely crafty smile.  
  
"As for why I'm here, I was summoned by Lord Elrond. He made it clear that he had a matter of great importance to -"  
  
"Yes, yes," Arwen said, waving her lovely hand to silence me. "Legolas, those clothes are simply all wrong for your new hair color. You MUST let me outfit you with new garments."  
  
I stared down at my clothes. They were quite comfortable, and served me well for travelling from Mirkwood to Rivendell. As far as I knew, I had no reason to change them.  
  
"These will suffice, I am sure. Please, lady, I must speak with Elrond . . ."  
  
"Absolutely not! You'll be the laughingstock of the fashion community if you visit Daddy wearing that. I will not allow it." She said sharply. With that, the Evenstar grabbed my arm and began to steer me into the shop she had come from, which was filled with racks of garments. Ladies dresses were hung on the walls next to cloaks and well-made breeches, all of them constructed of fine fabrics and beautifully sewn. I reached out and ran my hand across a smooth dark green tunic, faintly patterned with a design of silver leaves.  
  
"Oh no you don't!" Arwen exclaimed, gently slapping my hand. I recoiled in surprise. "You keep forgetting you're not a winter anymore. Come with me."  
  
Arwen continued to drag me about the store, holding tunics and cloaks against my body, her lovely face contorted into a lovely frown. I was silent throughout the procedure.   
  
It was clear to me that something very strange was happening in Rivendell, something that affected not only Imladris itself, but the Elves who made it their home. True I had only encountered two Elves so far, but neither Glorfindel nor Arwen were acting at all like their usual selves. I could assume that Elrond had been affected as well, if he had allowed this to happen to his home. What it was, I couldn't imagine, for who in Middle-earth would desire this to happen to the Last Homely House?  
  
Arwen's voice intruded upon my thoughts.  
  
"This, and this, ooh, and this too!" she said, adding to the already large pile of clothing she had been heaping into my arms. "Why don't you just go in there and try them on?"  
  
"My lady, I really must see . . ."  
  
"Oh no!" Arwen scolded. "Not until you are properly garbed." And with that, she shoved me into a very small room and shut the door.  
  
I must have tried on a hundred different combinations of clothing before Arwen was satisfied. Nearly all of my options had been exhausted when I came out of the dressing room in my final outfit. Immediately, Arwen's frustrated face broke into an immense grin as she beheld my ensemble - an exact copy of my previous outfit, several shades lighter.  
  
"Oh, Legolas, that is so YOU!" She gushed, and immediately ran over to straighten my collar.  
  
"I suppose." I muttered as Arwen busily tucked my hair behind my ears and dusted off my tunic.  
  
"Now . . . how will you be paying?" she asked eagerly. I blinked.  
  
"Payment?"  
  
"Well certainly. You don't expect me to give away these fine clothes for free?" Arwen scoffed.  
  
"I brought no money, my lady."  
  
Arwen blanched slightly.  
  
"No money?" she asked, as if the idea were quite shocking. "What ever possessed you to travel all the way from Mirkwood to Rivendell with no money?"  
  
"I had no need of it. Or thought I would have none, at least." I replied.  
  
"Oh . . ." Arwen groaned as she looked me up and down. "And you look so GOOD in them. Pity."  
  
"Quite." I muttered. "Might I have my own clothes back now?"  
  
Arwen glanced from my new garb to my rather dusty and travel-stained clothes in the dressing room.   
  
"Oh, keep them, Legolas. I'll send your father the bill." She said briskly. "You can't POSSIBLY attend Daddy's council in those."  
  
"Do you know why your father summoned me?" I interrupted.  
  
"Well . . . I'm sure Daddy will tell you all about it when you see him." Arwen said, and I noticed that she was making her way out of the shop. "See you later, Legolas."  
  
"Wait!" I called, dashing after the Evenstar. "Could you please take me to your father? I need to speak with him!"  
  
"Sorry, Legolas, no can do." Arwen said, and I blinked at the Lady's odd talk. "I have to make sure Estel keeps his appointment with Glorfindel, you know, the man wouldn't shampoo at all if I didn't insist upon it."  
  
I did not know what shampoo was, but I had more important things on my mind.  
  
"Well do you have any idea where I could find him?" I asked.  
  
"Oh, somewhere around here . . ." Arwen said vaguely, waving her hand about the hall as she walked into it. "He loves to wander the Mall."  
  
"Thank you," I called, remembering to keep my manners around the daughter of Lord Elrond. I watched her walk away as I continued puzzling over my situation.  
  
Arwen, like Glorfindel, seemed to have taken leave of her usual wise and kind manner. The Lady who I had encountered was almost nothing at all like the Arwen I knew, and more like some of the very young human females I had encountered. I was certain now that something was terribly wrong with Rivendell, and if it was bad enough to affect Arwen and Glorfindel (and perhaps Lord Elrond too), then it had to be put to a stop.  
  
"Don't worry, my Lady." I whispered, casting a last glance at the Evenstar as she glided down the hall towards Glorfindel's salon. "I will find out what is causing this. I will return Imladris . . . and you, too, to their former selves."  
  
Arwen looked back. "Did you say something?"  
  
"No, my lady."  
  
And I continued on my way to find Lord Elrond.  
  
---  
  
A/N: Hee hee. That was fun. ^_^ 


End file.
